I'll admit to not being the biggest Superman fan in the world (of his comic book incarnation, at least).  I'll also say that I think that DC will regret bringing back the multiverse.  I don't go gaga over 3-D, either.  My brain is wired in such a way that the effect doesn't work on me.  It's the most useless mutant power in the world.

Why, then, did I buy Final Crisis: Superman Beyond 3-D?

Two reasons:  the awesome cover for one, and Doug Mahnke's beautiful art for the other.  Grant Morrison doing the words couldn't hurt either, right?  Well, things started to go wrong for me and this book when I saw the terms "infra-red massage" and "purple ray technology" on page six and it's all downhill from there.  The next 34 pages are filled with impressive words like "Ultramenstruum" and "Mandrakk" and "Overvoid", but little in terms of a compelling story.  Superman Beyond's intended audience consists of people who find Final Crisis too bourgeois.  This is book is for the hardest of the hardcore; for the true Morrision disciple.  As for everyone else, just allow your eyes to glaze over and drool until the ride's over.

But what is it actually about, you might ask?  Good question, but damned if I know.  The best I could figure, a vampire lady named Zillo Valla has recruited the Supermen of multiple Earths to save the universe from a Dark Monitor named Mandrakk.  Yes, it does sound like an especially trippy episode of Superfriends, and that's the perfect way to describe it.  Imagine that the craziest, non-sensical episode of the Superfriends has been re-written by Grant Morrision during a drug-induced haze and you'll be close to what Superman Beyond feels like to read.  It's intended to be an entertaining story but what it actually is is proof that Grant Morrison can put anything to paper and DC will print it, and in 3-D even.